


Saints Row: A Brotherly Induction

by FunFics



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Multi, Saints Row 2 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunFics/pseuds/FunFics
Summary: Captured by The Brotherhood, Shaundi finds her allegiances forcefully changing...
Comments: 3





	Saints Row: A Brotherly Induction

"Uuughhhh... What... Happened...?" is all the sweet 'n petite Saint could muster. Her speech slurred, her vision murky at best. The obnoxious echoing of grunge and death metal molested her ear drums. Then again, this wasn't something she hadn't experienced before. "Nghh... Concert? I don't remember any... Oh fuck."  
As her eyes fluttered open, the haze seemed to clear - aged, stone walls coated in decaying grafitti, the loud music blasting from what sounded like several speakers, and enough souped-up trucks to fit a dealership - she was in Brotherhood territory. Not just Brotherhood territory, but just outside their direct HQ, an abandoned warehouse off the docks.

Shaundi may be high off her ass on something a good fifty percent of the time, but she wasn't dumb; she knew she had to get the fuck out of there as quickly as possible. She practically threw her legs in front of her, kicking up dirt, shattered beer bottles and fragmented remains of cinder blocks, but she couldn't move even an inch, having literally been wrapped in chain to a large, stone pillar. 

"Well well well, look who's finally awake!" chuckled a feminine voice, one dripping with condescension.

"Hey, you're..." Shaundi paused to examine the woman. Rocking a short, red ponytail, matched by a bergandy crop top, black jeans and a really punchable face, girlfriend of the Brotherhood's head honcho, looked her up and down with disdain. "You're Maero's chick, right?"

"And you're the little tramp who nearly got trampled by my car at the bank." she spat in response - Shaundi would kick herself, if she could, hindsight basically screaming at her. If she had just called the Boss about it when it happened, maybe things would've turned out differently...

"And whaddya want!? Is this seriously over that?"  
  
"Christ, you stoner-types are dense." growled the Jessica. "This is about taking initiative... My boys aren't taking the Saints too seriously, so I figured you could help show what a pain in the ass you has-beens can be if left to your devices." she practically hisses the last part, walking closer to the deadlocked captive.  
  
"Look lady, I don't know how you got me here, but- UURUGPH!?!? HEGPHH!!!" She whines and muffled, thrusting uselessly against the cold cement as the scornful Brotherhood associate stuffed a makeshift gag into her mouth what appeared to be a purple beanie. Stained with what seemed to be small splatters of oil, or petrol, it only adds to the trauma as the potent taste assaulted Shaundi's tounge.

Snapping her fingers, two tattooed members of the truck-centric gang appearing as if from nowhere. Slightly differing in height, one rocks a mohawk, the other a simple buzz cut. The pair wasted no time unravelling the chain, chuckling at the short prisoner's futile attempts to break free, each grabbing hold of an arm as they began to effortessly drag her further within the decrepit base of operations. The barrage of intense music only grows louder as Shaundi's escorted inside, various members of the chaotic crew eyeing her.

"Nice tits, short round!" calls a woman, more piercings on her face than most people have strands of hair.  
  
"Which street corner ya find her on?" chuckles a burly man, his small posse of friends chortling amongst themselves at the remark. 

The catcalls and hollering only continued as she silently seethed, Jessica maintaining a piercing eye-contact the entire time. And yet, the torment hadn't even truely begun...  
After what felt like a damn tour of the labrynth-like ground floor, the two lackies turned one final corner before planting her feet to the floor, holding her in place. Before her? A large table - with various newspaper excerpts detailing recent Brotherhood crimes - what looked to be a stolen dentists chair, some small crates with... Needles? Tattoo equipment, which, figures. Orange light cascaded over the small area, from the nearby fire exit, only feintly illuminating the gargantuan figure who stood with his back turned, counting stacks of stolen dollar bills. 

"Hey baby!" giggles a suddenly cheerful Jessica, a cutesy smile plastered across her face as she presented herself, shooing the pair of goons away, resting an elbow on Shaundi's shoulder. "Got'cha something."

Turning to face his girl, the monstrous of a silhouette revealed himself to be the Brotherhood's leader, Maero... The monolith of a man was quite a sight to behold, especially to Shaundi, feeling inches tall by comparison. What looked like a welcoming smile, quickly shifted to an eerie grimace as he looked down upon the small Saint.  
  
"A Saint!? The hell is this?" he growled with a startling lack of patience.

"Babe, relax - she's hardly gonna go anywhere, is she?" she scoffs, grabbing at Shaundi's chin; her thumb gently stroked at the steel stud resting underneath her bottom lip, fondling the piercing. At this point, a panic had started to set in for the recent Third Street recruit - she was generally aloof, relaxed, easy-going, even in stressful situations - but this was on another level of danger. With no herbs or powder in her system, she found only a horrid concoction of dread and worry build in her stomach, her mind slowly but surely racing with worst case scenarios. Thinking straight was an impossibility - and in a move she'd regret, she spits the fabric from her mouth, biting at Jessica's finger.

"FFFUCK, BITCH!!!" She shrieked, blindsided by agony coursing through her index finger. As expected, Maero did not take this act of defiance very well. Lunging forward, a giant hand wrapped around Shaundi's throat, lifting her a good three feet off of the damp floor and pressing her against the nearest wall.

"Give me ONE reason a little fucking worm like you doesn't have their lungs full of salt water right now? And why I shouldn't change that?" he threatened with a rumble to his words, oxygen quickly becoming sparse in his victim's windpipe. The tips of her Converse ricocheted uselessly off Maero's stomach. Even if she had anything to say, it was trapped in her throat, no better than a straw when pinched shut. She gags, she coughs, she whines, but the life is on the verge of leaving her brown eyes.

Strutting into the scene with a swagger of sorts, the Feed Dogs lead guitarist (and Maero's personal tattoo artist) Matt pauses, very well walking in on what seemed to be the beginning of an execution.  
  
"Uhh... So did I pick a shitty time to come over, or...?"

"Sort've, yeah." Jessica affirms with a pout, still nursing her hand.

"Actually, we were just taking out the trash..." growls the surly specimen Maero, releasing Shaundi's throat with no warning; collapsing to the floor, her eyes water as she coughs and pants, the chains unravelling from her slender frame and dragging by her feet as she nervously crawls away.

"L-Look, I..." a cough, her mind foggy at best. "I'm sure th-the Saints would... Be willing to talk, put our differences aside..." she insists. Really, even in her state, she knows the Boss would be interested in no such civility, but, survival is her number one priority right now - now seems as good a time as any to bend the truth a little.

"The Saints had their chance." huffs Maero, hot air rushing through his nostrils. "Like I said to your boss, 'on your hands and fucking knees'... twenty percent. Tssk. I was being too Goddamn generous..."

"Dude, she's a Saint?" Matt chimes in, admiring her looks. Even crawling pathetically like some sort of whimpering dog, he couldn't help but find her quite easy on the eyes.

"Brotherhood business, Matt." he raises his voice in his response, looming over her like the grim reaper incarnate. "Stay out of it."

"Wait wait, bro, hear me out." he beckons, hands raised defensively. Friend or otherwise, he knew of Maero's tremendous temper, and was very aware of the fact he could be on the receiving end of some physicality. "Why not just... Well, put her to use?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Jessica raises an eyebrow, not quite sure if she likes what the musician is potentially insinuating.  
He approaches his fearsome friend, almost having to stand on the balls of his feet to whisper into his ear. He lays his idea out, Maero's face scrunched up, jaw clenched, a scowl on display... But, it does find its way into something baring semblance to a sadistic smile. He let's out a boisterous chuckle.

"Jessica - do me a favor and go find some spare threads for our little visitor here, would you?"

A look of confusion, met by Matt's knowing grin... What was he... Oh! Oh!!! It started to make sense, as she returned a look of approval.

"Happily, babe." she cements her response with a kiss to his cheek, before walking off with her mission in mind.

Each foot step not unlike a gunshot, Maero asserts himself over a shivering Shaundi, reaching down and wedging his course fingers between the waistband of her faded jeans: before lifting her up off of all fours, dropping her carelessly onto the table.

"Oof!?" she grunts, her chin bouncing off of the hardy wood, leaving her in somewhat of a daze as paper cut-outs float to the floor. Her feet lethargically shift from left to right, hands dangling off the sides of the now-dented desk. Matt, meanwhile, had already gotten to work setting up his tattoo equipment, fiddling with needles, inks, what have you. He   
had originally arrived to finish up Maero's profile, adding tribal works to the left side of his distinguished face, but then again... Ladies first. Resting his right hand on her back, the Brotherhood's head effectively plants Shaundi flat on her stomach, effectively trapping her completely. No amount of helpless wriggling nor flailing would get her to budge, as she was about to find out. 

Very eager, Matt wrestles Shaundi's faded jeans down, freeing her cute ass, only accentuated by the black panties that ride up her cheeks, in a sort of self-wedgie. Only further inviting his perversion was the winged, simplistic tramp stamp resting on her lower back. He'd seen better ink in his time - and luckily for her, she was about to get a brand new tattoo, for absolutely free!  
  
The sudden hum of an electric needle tingles up and throughout her spine, but alas, it's not enough to waken her up. The point presses oh so gently against her left ass cheek, and so began the transformation, from Saint, to Brotherhood broad. Even in her groggy, incapacitated state, there's plenty of pointless resting. Moaning and groaning under her breath, her face scrunching in pain as the the gang's signature wolf tattoo finds its way onto her tender behind. With each start, and each stop, a pathetic whine forces its way through her cherry lips, her body jerking at the tingling sensation, tremors traveling through her jiggly behind - and after what felt like an actual eternity to the half-conscious damsel, it was done. Unwilling or not, it made no real difference - the ink had set; she was property, now.

"Ooooh, great job!" beams a joyful Jessica, returning with a small handful of gang attire as Shaundi shakes and shudders, her pride hurting more than her butt ever could. "I guess she's a tribal tramp now, huh?"

"That's certainly one way to describe it." Maero heartily chuckles in response, now crossing his arms as a sluggish, shames Shaundi rolls clumsily to the floor. 'Defeat' doesn't begin to describe it...  
  
She puts one hand forward - followed by another, then one more, finding herself staring at a pricey pair of black heels. Her lips tremble as she looks up, clothes unceremoniously dumped onto her.

"You can dress yourself." she picks her crimson red lips, heels clacking against the hard ground as she finds herself cradling her man. "Unless you'd rather I go get some of the boys...?"

A tear slithered down Shaundi's cheek. Knowing better than to push her luck, she swallows whatever pride she has left, nodding meekly as she finished Matt's job from earlier, ditching her pants altogether. Next, came her trainers - an uneasy quiet filled the room, even with all the ruckus from everywhere else. Sensing the glares focused on her, she practically rips her laces apart, bare feet exposed as she hobbles upright to her feet. Her camisole came next, the trashy top being peeled off of her fine frame and dropped aside. And finally, she undid the bandana on her head, simply pulling it off in one quick motion, letting it flop down to her toes. Both Maero and his pal shared dirty looks, smirking and quietly commenting with every step of the way, Jessica judging each inch of her exposed flesh. She didn't cover up... I mean, why bother? Her small, but pleasantly perky tits shook with each disgraced movement, the cool air engulfing her bust.

And so... She put on her new outfit. Steel toe boots, leathery assless chaps as to have her bold branding on display, a shredded, tattered white crop top which gave EVERYONE a view of the goods, concealed only by an undersized, red vest, the very same wolf symbol sewn onto the back.

"For a Saint slut, not gonna lie, this is a good look for you!" jeers Jessica. "One of your better ideas, Matty."

"C-Can... Can I... Go?" Shaundi mutters, head dropped down, her posture slack and ripe with regret.

"Oh, you're going alright..." Maero muses, gesturing to some of his men passing by. "Gentlemen - if you'd be so kind as to help our new associate find her way to the brothel up the street. She's gonna make us a pretty penny."

Shaundi clearly tries to form words... Yet no noise escapes her until she swallows, aghast.

"What!? I didn't - I mean - this -"

"Welcome to the Brotherhood, hon." waves Jessica, as Shaundi finds herself being dragged into the darkness, her life about to begin anew... 

**Author's Note:**

> Not my greatest piece, but you gotta start somewhere, right? Expect more Saints Row smut soon!
> 
> Feedback and criticisms are always welcome!


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